Just as The Bunch of Grapes was the favorite gathering place of the Sons of Liberty, so the Peacock Tavern was a Tory bar. Boston was becoming polarized. Its citizens preferred the company of like-minded thinkers and although no one was very happy with the actions of the ministry and Parliament, there were still many who considered themselves loyal Englishmen and sought a rapprochement with Britain. Among them were men who held offices as tax commissioners and customs officials, merchants who were alarmed over the increasing talk of a boycott of British goods, and citizens who were outraged by the actions of the mobs of rioters who roamed the streets and gathered in the Common and in the taverns on the waterfront.
“They speak of liberty and property.” said Thomas Brown. sarcastically. “The mob always shouts those words when they’re about to tear down a house. And they are allowed to do so with impunity. You know, the governor heard that Macintosh was the leader of the mob that wrecked Hutchinson’s home, so he sent Greenleaf out to bring him in. The sheriff arrested the blackguard, but the Sons of Liberty gave him an ultimatum. They sent a group of men to tell him that unless Macintosh was immediately released, not one man would volunteer to join the patrols the Town Meeting had voted to send out in order to prevent the rioting. I was at the council meeting when Greenleaf made his report to Hutchinson. The result? The man was released. And now he crows about it to anyone who’ll listen! I ask you, of what use are the patrols if the rioters can so easily intimidate them?”
“I heard that Governor Bernard has offered a reward of three hundred pounds to any man who will identify the leader of the rioters,” said Hewitt. “Needless to say, it isn’t Macintosh they’re after. They realize the cobbler is nothing but a tool. Bernard and Hutchinson both know that Adams is behind it all, yet not one man can be found to come forward and give evidence against him, not even for three hundred pounds!”
“Having seen what they did to Hutchinson, not to mention Oliver. Hallowell, and Story, would you come forward to give evidence?” said Moffat. “To be sure, three hundred pounds is quite a large sum to the average man, but what good are three hundred pounds when they come to tear your house down in the middle of the night?”
“There is no law in Boston anymore,” said Brown, bitterly. “The mobs grow bolder by the day.”
“I must admit that appears true,” said Drakov. “Why, the very day that I arrived, I saw them put a party of Royal Navy men to flight with rocks and bricks.”
“A press gang,” said Hewitt, sourly. “I can feel little sympathy for such its they. Nor can any here, I’ll warrant.”
“I will not dispute the point,” said Drakov. “I was merely commenting upon the boldness of the mob, to go up against armed men of the King’s Navy. And it took but a nod from Samuel Adams.”
“You mean you actually heard Adams give the order?” Hewitt said.
“Well, not in so many words.” said Drakov. “I was present in the tavern when that man, Furlong, was impressed. Adams was them, too, with a group of his companions. I saw him give a nod to them and they quietly left the tavern. Moments later, a mob had been assembled upon Hancock’s Wharf to rescue the man who’d been impressed. I was impressed myself, so to speak that it could have all been done so quickly.”
Brown smiled. “No surprise there, Mr. Dark.” he said. “Sam Adams has many friends among those who work the docks. He plays to their sympathies and plys them with drink, no great matter for one who owns a brewery, and if a man be hard-pressed, why, a job can always be found for him on one of King Hancock’s vessels or in one of Avery’s warehouses. Grant them that, they take cam of their own.”
“What do they say in London about events here?” Hewitt asked Drakov.
“They call the colonists ‘rebellious children.’” Drakov said. “All good citizens of England must pay taxes. They don’t see why the colonists should be exempt.”
“Yes, quite.” said Brown. “But try to tell that to the Sons of Liberty!”
“Sons of Liberty, indeed!” snorted Moffat. “They respect only the liberties of those who feel the way they do! Let any man speak out against them and he will soon find out what liberties he has! He’ll enjoy the liberty of having a paving stone heaved through his window. Try to tell them that you have the right to disagree with them and they will demonstrate their right to break your head for you! You cannot hope to reason with such men.”
“That’s true enough,” said Brown. “You’ll not convince the Sons of Liberty with logic.”
“Perhaps they can be convinced in other ways,” said Drakov.
“What do you mean?” asked Hewitt.
“I was thinking
of the headless horseman,” Drakov said.
“What?” said Brown. “A headless horseman, did you say?”
“Yes, haven’t you heard?” said Drakov. “Moffat here was telling me about it just this morning.”
“What’s this about a headless horseman, Moffat?”
“Then you haven’t heard’?” said Moffat. “It’s been the talk of all the taverns on the waterfront. A tale of a ghost rider, gentleman, a specter with no head who rides the streets of Boston after dark.”
“What manner of nonsense is this?” said Brown.
“I report only what I hear, gentlemen.” said Moffat. “It seems that the other night. Ebenezer Macintosh and some of his fellow so-called Sons of Liberty received what one might call a visitation Macintosh, so the word goes, was raving drunkenly when a jack-o-lantern came crashing through the tavern window and knocked him from his chair.”
“No, really?” Hewitt said, grinning.
“The broken window was real enough,” said Moffat. “I saw them fixing it myself.”
“Go on,” said Brown. “What happened then?”
“Well,” said Moffat, “it seems that Macintosh and his friends ran out into the street to see who’d done it. They were ready to break heads, I gather, but instead, so the story goes, they all got the fright of their lives. The street appeared deserted, with no sign of whoever had thrown the pumpkin through the window. They looked all around, but there was simply no one there.”